Killer Queen
by TheQuietAwakening
Summary: Bellatrix was locked away in Azkaban, and yet, she never lost who she truly was. Her fantasies of the outside world kept her mind intact, her imagination and dark passions gave her revived hope. Dive into the perverse mind of Bellatrix Lestrange, the true Killer Queen. - Written for QLFC Round 9


**Round 9 – Long Live (the) Queen**

**Team - Wimbourne Wasps**

**Chaser 1 Prompt – Another One Bites the Dust – Lyric used = "And another one gone, and another one gone, and another one bites the dust."**

**Optional Prompts – (lyric) So much to do in one lifetime [from I Want It All], (title) Killer Queen, (word) drugs**

**Word Count - 1029**

**Warning: This story gets pretty dark. Mentions of imagined torture and violence.**

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Bellatrix stared blankly through the dark stone wall of her prison cell. She could hear the clanging of chains from a nearby chamber, the mindless ramblings and occasional shrieks of despair from the neighbouring prisoners, but she barely registered their true origins. They brought her back to the times when she was free to roam and wreak terror, when she was by her master's side, a sinister grin of excitement etched into her features. The sounds of Azkaban allowed those exhilarating memories to keep coming back. Somehow, the screams of her fellow tormented souls kept the thrilling thoughts with her, even when the Dementors desired to suck every joyous recollection from her mind.

Sometimes, Bellatrix swore she could see him, the Dark Lord, lurking in the corner of her dark cell. Mmm, and with him, he would bring a bloodied prisoner to do with as she pleased, someone she could have fun with while she waited for the moment when she would be able to run wild with her master again. And she liked to imagine all the things she could do to make that pathetic Muggle-lover scream, what she would do to make him beg for her to end it all. Bellatrix would laugh in the cowering man's face, relishing in his tearful eyes and agonised expression.

The Dark Lord would look upon her with pride. This was the monster he had formed, the beast he had unleashed. Bellatrix would always be his most loyal servant, beside him until the end. She had no doubt that he would soon return to power, that he would break her free from this prison and allow her the revenge she deserved. He would gaze upon her with intensity, with an icy heat, with desire. And he would unleash the beast once again.

If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it all, the power they would wield together. In her mind's eye, Bellatrix could feel the cold night air gusting around her, pulling her hair into a crazed dark halo around her head. She was his black angel, his queen. They marched in time down the road, already smeared with the blood of their latest victims. There were Muggles on either side of their path, down on their hands and knees, begging for their mercy, bowing before the rulers who would soon end their pitiful existence.

Then came her favourite part. It was almost a new sort of dance, a kind so much more fun than any ball or party she had ever been to. As they stepped down the path paved in crimson blood, spells passed through their lips like a song, their wands twisting and flicking to the tune of their words. And one by one, the quivering disgraces would fall, face down, never to rise again.

It was beautiful.

The world would fear them, would obey them, wouldn't dream of defying them. If they did, they would end up in line to witness the dance of death as they waltzed down the aisle. And another one gone, and another one gone, and another one bites the dust. Bellatrix could feel the rush of adrenaline, the pounding of her heart within her chest, as she skipped with glee between their victims.

They would have a castle of their own, twice the size of Hogwarts, with thrones seated side by side. A multitude of servants would bend to their every will, all doubling as playthings if she happened to get bored. The Dark Lord would watch her every move, her every spell, her skill for torture, and be pleased. He would be very pleased.

A loud bang of a metal tray hitting the stone floor pulled her out of her daze. It must have been mealtime. Bellatrix slowly got up from her place on the hard ground, her chains scraping against the floor as she pulled herself towards her dinner. The grey mush they had slopped onto the tray filled her senses with its putrid odor, but still, she knelt beside it, shoveling the monstrosity they called food into her mouth, scooping it up between her fingers.

As disgusting as it was, she needed to keep up her strength. They wouldn't break her, they couldn't. She was already as broken as she could ever get. Bellatrix would sit and wait. She would eat the slop they gave her, relishing in the thoughts of what she would do to all those who had trapped her.

The Dark Lord would come for her, and they would all tremble with fear before her with terror in their eyes and shrieks of agony on their lips. They would pay for what they had done to her. They would pay a price much worse than they could have ever imagined. Those self-righteous bastards would kneel before her and face the consequences of their actions. They would wish they had never dared to imprison her.

Once she had her revenge, and the Dark Lord had finally murdered that child, they would rise to power and rule the world, completely unstoppable.

Bellatrix grinned, feeling the wet, acidic substance dribble down her chin. So much to do in one lifetime. And she was going to do it all, have it all.

She just had to wait for the moment when the Dark Lord would come; when he would be her king, and she, his queen.

These fantasies were what kept her going in Azkaban. They were like drugs to her, an escape. They kept her sane in the place which was designed to eliminate the most vicious of criminals; or at least more sane than some of the other prisoners. But what she truly longed for was the moment when she would one day be able to consume her real drug of choice.

The dance of death, the Killing Curse spilling in waves off the tip of her tongue was what really gave her a high. And it was a high she would never forget, one she would always long for, would always imagine.

Oh, and she would have it once again, all she could ever hope for.

Her moment would come. She just needed to be patient.

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**A huge thanks to my amazing teammates savedprincess85, Hemlockonium and DaughteroftheOneTrueKing for taking the time to beta my story!**


End file.
